


Over and Over

by Impossibly_Izzy



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Autistic Charles Boyle, Domestic Fluff, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Jake Peralta is a Good Husband, Kid Fic, M/M, Meltdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27942926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impossibly_Izzy/pseuds/Impossibly_Izzy
Summary: Jake and Charles celebrate their daughter's birthday, but there's something weighing on their minds.
Relationships: Charles Boyle/Jake Peralta
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Over and Over

**Author's Note:**

> I started this in?? April? May? I have no idea, but it's officially the longest a one-shot has ever sat in my google drive before I finished it. Also a quick disclaimer: I'm not a parent, I don't know anything about toddlers, and all my knowledge of adoption comes from Modern Family.  
> Named after the song by Ben Rector.  
>  _‘And after all we've been through  
>  There's no one else for me but you  
> I would choose you over and over again’ ___

The adoption agency called just as they were finishing dinner.

 _This could be it_ , Jake thought, his hands trembling as he answered the phone. _Finally_. Charles looked up curiously, halfway through coaxing a spoonful of carrot into their daughter’s mouth.

‘Phone!’ Gracie said.

‘I’ve gotta,’ Jake said, gesturing with his free hand. ‘It’s the –’

‘Hello,’ said the lady from the agency.

Jake got up, walked towards the bedroom. ‘Hey.’ _This could be it_. He shut the door behind him.

‘Unfortunately Ms Buscemi picked another couple,’ the lady said.

‘Oh.’ Jake leant heavily against the door.

‘I’m sorry, I know how long you’ve been on the wait list for. We’ll keep looking for matches for you.’

‘Okay,’ Jake said, deflated. ‘Thanks.’

He stayed where he was after he hung up, listening to his husband and daughter in the next room. He had spent so much time talking to adoption agencies over the past year, and they still had nothing to show for it.

When he did walk back to the kitchen, Charles looked up expectantly, and Jake just shook his head.

‘Dada!’ Gracie said, stretching her chubby little arms out to him.

‘Hey, you,’ Jake said. ‘I knew you liked carrots really.’

‘No,’ she said, firmly.

‘Don’t worry,’ Charles said. ‘Food’s gonna get a lot more interesting when you’re bigger. You haven’t even had jellied eel yet, or tripe, or _linguine_ …’

‘Weird order to put those in,’ Jake said. He scooped Gracie out of her high chair. ‘Come on, let’s start getting you ready for bed. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.’

She wriggled in his arms. ‘Down?’

‘So impatient,’ Jake said, setting her gently on her feet.

Charles took their plates over to the sink. ‘She takes after her dad.’

‘I really thought she might be the one,’ Charles said. They were curled on the couch, the TV on quietly but unnoticed, having finally convinced Gracie to stop yelling and settle down.

‘Huh?’ For a moment Jake felt like he had time-warped back to the years before their relationship, listening to Charles talk about Vivian or Eleanor or whoever else. (Which would be _kinda_ cool, but Jake would much rather be living in the present.)

‘Ms Buscemi.’

‘Oh. Right.’ Jake turned sideways, draping his legs across Charles’ lap and pressing his head into his shoulder. ‘Same.’

‘I feel like we’ve been doing this forever.’

‘Me too. Me too. I’m so tired.’

Charles sighed. ‘It seems like every pregnant woman in the state’s rejected us at this point. Maybe the country.’

‘We could try going abroad,’ Jake said.

‘Most countries don’t let foreign same-sex couples adopt.’

‘There’s gotta be somewhere,’ Jake said. ‘We could _look_.’

‘We could try surrogacy again. But…’

‘It all worked out so perfectly last time,’ Jake said. ‘What if our luck doesn’t hold?’

‘Exactly.’ Charles rubbed a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in clumps. Jake couldn’t resist kissing him.

The first thing Jake thought when he woke up was that it was so damn good to wake up to quiet rather than crying. And then he was hit by a rush of guilt and longing so hard it felt like a physical ache in his stomach. He could do it all over again, he _could_ , and he _should_.

Without opening his eyes, he rolled over and snuggled up to Charles.

‘Hey,’ Charles said, sleepily, tugging of his sleep apnoea mask. ‘Do you mind getting Gracie ready? I’ve gotta start the food.’

So they weren’t talking about it. That was fine. It totally made sense to focus on enjoying today and talk about that super downer stuff tomorrow.

‘Sure.’ Jake leant over to press a sleepy kiss to his husband’s lips. ‘I love you.’ Which wasn’t relevant exactly, except that it was always relevant.

‘I love you too,’ Charles said.

When Jake went into Gracie’s room she was awake, sitting up in her crib and talking cheerfully to her stuffed animals.

‘Good morning,’ he said.

She waved excitedly at him. ‘Dada!’

‘Who’s the best two-year old in the world?’ he said, scooping her out of her crib. ‘Is it you? I think it’s you.’

‘Two!’ she echoed.

‘That’s how old you are now,’ Jake said, holding up two fingers for her. She grabbed them. ‘All our favourite people are coming over to see you for your birthday. Pretty cool, right?’

He changed her diaper but left her in her pyjamas while he fed her breakfast. Charles was in the kitchen boiling pasta and mixing frosting, wearing one of Jake’s hoodies over his pyjamas, and for a moment everything was so perfect Jake almost forgot anything was missing.

‘More nana?’ Gracie said.

‘ _More_ banana?’ Jake said. ‘How much can one little girl need?’

Gracie fell about laughing; Jake wished everyone was this easily impressed with his jokes. (Although she might have picked it up from Charles, to be fair.) He gave her another half of a banana and ate the rest himself, and then went to shower and get dressed. When he came back the kitchen seemed to have even more food in it, bowls and dishes all over the counters.

‘Everything under control?’

‘Definitely,’ Charles said. He had a smear of frosting on his shirt. ‘Everything will be done by the time the others get here.’

Jake leant over to kiss his cheek quickly. ‘Let me know if you need any help.’

They had moved into a three-bedroom place, so they’d have room for the second kid who didn’t exist yet. Sometimes Jake was surprised all over again that this was his life now: husband and father and part-owner of a three-bedroom apartment. It even had a _back yard_ , complete with paving slabs and a scrap of lawn and a grill. They had decked the yard out in bunting for the occasion, and Jake set out picnic blankets on the grass. Gracie toddled around, happily entertaining herself and her stuffed panda. It was midday now, and everyone was set to arrive soon.

Charles came out in jeans and a Hawaiian shirt with half the buttons undone.

‘Nope,’ Jake said. ‘You look way too sexy. How am I meant focus on anything else?’ He did up another couple of buttons.

‘Smort,’ Charles said. ‘Wouldn’t wanna be turning you on too much.’

‘You always turn me on.’

Charles grinned and kissed him.

The doorbell rang: it was Amy, exactly five minutes after the official start time of the party. Jake spotted a familiar motorbike across the street, and then a familiar figure skulking next to it.

‘Rosa?’

She looked up, realised she had been spotted, and skulked over. “Sup.’

‘I didn’t see you there,’ Amy said.

Rosa glared. ‘Traffic was better than normal. I was _on time_.’

‘Isn’t that a good thing?’

‘I can’t deal with this,’ Rosa said, and pushed past Jake into the living room. ‘Boyle, I need a drink.’

‘Peralta,’ Charles corrected cheerfully, and handed her a soda.

Amy and Rosa fussed over Gracie, which delighted her. Jake imagined all her future birthdays when she was old enough to really understand what was going on, to wake up early in her excitement, to shake her presents to guess what was inside them. There would be birthday dinners in restaurants, there would be parties with children from school, there would be trips to the mall and the movie theatre and the bowling alley. There would be a bat mitzvah and a sweet sixteenth – or there wouldn’t be, if that wasn’t what she wanted. There would be a big twenty-first someday. _God_. It all seemed so far away and like it was moving too quickly, all at once.

More people arrived: Gina and Iggy, Terry and Sharon and the girls, Jake’s parents, Holt and Kevin. Jake got them all drinks and took them through to the yard.

Holt looked sternly at Gracie. ‘Hello, Peralta.’

She waved at him. ‘Gwan-gwad!’

‘You know, it would be a lot easier if you just called us all by our first names,’ Jake said.

‘I know,’ Holt said, impassive as ever. ‘I just think it’s… _funny_.’

‘ _What?_ ’ Jake said, but Holt was already turning to talk to Terry.

Next to arrive were Lydia and Zoe and their kids. They had been friends with Jake and Charles ever since Lydia had agreed to grow their daughter inside her. She was wearing a floral sundress alarmingly similar to the one Jake had put Gracie in.

‘Hello,’ she cooed, kneeling on the picnic blanket next to Gracie. ‘What a lovely dress you’ve got.’

‘One of you is gonna have to change,’ Zoe said, wryly.

‘Nonsense,’ Lydia said.

Everyone adored Lydia: she had all the earnestness of a Boyle cousin but was slightly less weird and therefore more palatable to Jake’s family. Even his aunt Linda liked her, on account of her being a ‘nice Jewish girl’. Zoe mostly stood around with her arms folded, looking like Lydia’s bodyguard in her aviators and pink biker jacket.

Gracie commenced a game of running around the yard handing out wooden blocks to everyone. She was a big fan of running: Jake hoped there was some kind of latent athleticism buried in his genes.

Jake fired up the grill, feeling like _such_ a dad. His own dad was chatting with Lynn, his mom helping Charles with the side dishes, Holt and Kevin talking to Gracie like she was an adult. Jake lined up chicken pieces on the barbeque, happy for once to just listen to all the conversations going on around him. Gina was telling Sharon about the healing powers of crystals, and Rosa was sighing at her. Iggy and Ava were having an intense debate about Disney princesses. Amy was asking Lydia about surrogacy.

‘Would you do it again?’ she said.

‘I think four’s enough for me,’ Lydia said. ‘It’s a shame when they’re all so lovely.’

She started telling Amy how busy she and Zoe were with their vintage clothes business. For a second Jake let himself imagine what it would be like to live in a world where Lydia did want to be a surrogate again, where having a second child would be that easy. Not _easy_ easy of course, and especially not for her. And they wanted to adopt, to shower their love on a kid who desperately needed it. But everything felt so far out of Jake’s hands, so frustratingly impossible to control, and for a moment it was good to indulge in the fantasy of something simpler.

They had been so close last night. He thought about the spare room. The empty photo frames. Gracie’s old baby clothes, the ones that had survived intact and not too stained. Everything just _waiting_. Smoke was getting in Jake’s eyes.

Charles came out of the kitchen. His shirt was coming untucked, his hair not as neat as it had been a few hours ago. ‘Nearly ready?’

‘Few more minutes,’ Jake said, and hastily started turning chicken over before it could burn.

The food was great. Jake’s family was great. Everything was the way it was supposed to be. At least, that was what Jake told himself when his brain wasn’t busy replaying the previous evening’s phone call over and over again. _Unfortunately Ms Buscemi picked another couple…_

‘This is delicious,’ Amy said, helping herself to another spoonful of barbeque beans.

‘The mustard on the potatoes is inspired,’ Karen said.

Jake felt bad for forgetting to pay attention to the food, which really was great. He made a point of telling Charles how good it was as they carried the plates inside.

‘Thanks,’ Charles said, distractedly, as he rummaged through a kitchen drawer. ‘Where are the – oh, got them.’ He held up a packet of matches.

Jake ditched the plates he was holding and plucked the matches from Charles’ hand. ‘You bring the cake,’ he said. ‘I’ll definitely drop it.’

‘Smort.’ Charles said it with something like a sigh. Jake was very aware that something was going on in his husband’s head right now, the kind of something that could get explosive when left unchecked. Hopefully things would be easier now the food was done, but he worried anyway.

‘Is there anything else I can do?’

‘Nope.’ Charles gave him a fake smile with too much eye contact. ‘All good.’

Gracie covered both hands and most of her face in chocolate cake. She looked extremely happy, stuffing her fat fingers into her mouth and waving the other hand up and down.

‘I’m going to get to bake her so many birthday cakes,’ Charles said. And then he started crying.

‘Hey,’ Jake said, softly.

‘Sorry,’ Charles said. ‘She’s just so…’

‘I know,’ Jake said. ‘She’s perfect.’

Charles sniffed. ‘Yeah.’

‘Are you okay?’ Jake said. Charles took a deep breath and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. ‘Okay, let’s go inside,’ Jake decided.

He grabbed his husband’s hand and led him through the crowded yard back into the cool stillness of their apartment. He figured everyone could survive without them for a few minutes. They went to their room, shut the door behind them.

‘I’m sorry,’ Charles gasped. He was properly crying, his face red and puffy.

Jake sank onto the bed, pulling Charles down beside him. ‘What’s up?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Charles said, again. ‘I’m fine, I just…’ He buried his face in Jake’s shoulder.

‘It’s okay.’ Jake hugged him tight. Charles flinched, hands balling into fists, making an unhappy noise into Jake’s shoulder. Jake wanted to talk more, to ask what had brought this on, to tell Charles everything was going to be okay and that he loved him, but he knew that for a moment it was best to keep his ramblings to himself. So he kept quiet, letting Charles sob against his shoulder.

By now, they were well-practised at looking after each other. Jake knew Charles got overwhelmed when too much was happening at once, and often he could see it coming and intercept. Sometimes it was because they were in a too-bright, too-busy supermarket and he couldn’t decide between types of sundried tomato, and sometimes they were out on a case and Jake said something dumb and Charles snapped at him. With things like this, where the pressure built up slowly, it was harder to prevent. And, obviously, the last couple of years had come with all kinds of new strains.

After a while, Jake felt some of the tension ebb out of Charles’ body.

‘Sorry,’ Charles said, again, his voice muffled by Jake’s shirt.

‘You don’t need to be sorry.’ Jake rubbed a hand up and down Charles’ back, making sure he kept his touch firm.

Charles took a deep, shuddering breath. He didn’t seem too bad: at least he was here, allowing himself to be comforted. Not lashing out or retreating into himself or lying face-down on the floor.

‘Does this have anything to do with last night?’ Jake said.

‘Maybe. Yeah.’

‘That’s pretty much how I feel too,’ Jake admitted.

Charles pulled back. ‘Oh, _Jakey_. Why didn’t you say something?’

Jake laughed weakly. Charles’ need to look after him was powerful enough to snap him out of just about anything. ‘I didn’t wanna screw today up,’ Jake said. ‘But I… I really thought it was gonna happen. I keep waiting for it to work, for there to be four of us, and it just never comes. When I got the call last night, I thought that was _it_.’

‘It’s so –’ Charles sighed. ‘It’s not that – Gracie’s perfect. Our family is amazing. I just –’ He let out a huff of exasperation, like he couldn’t find the words.

‘It’s frustrating.’

‘Yeah.’ Charles leant his forehead against Jake’s. ‘We’ll keep trying.’

‘Yeah.’ Jake took his hands and squeezed them gently. ‘I wouldn’t wanna do this with anyone else.’

‘Me neither. Me neither.’ Charles tilted his chin up to capture Jake’s mouth with a long, soft kiss. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

‘Thanks for looking after me,’ Charles said. He sat back, tapping his hand against his thigh.

‘Always,’ Jake said. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘I’m good.’ But Charles’ face was still blotchy, his eyes puffy. Hand jittery and restless. And now they had to go back out and socialise and clear up, and Jake knew Charles wasn’t in the best headspace for that.

‘If you want me to kick everyone out, I _will_ do it,’ he said.

Charles smiled weakly, wiped his face with his hands. ‘Maybe in a couple of hours. Shall we go see our daughter?’

‘Yep.’ Jake jumped up and held a hand out to Charles. ‘Let’s go.’

Outside, everyone seemed to be doing just fine. And no-one commented on their disappearance, which was nice. Someone had tried to wipe the cake off of Gracie’s face and hadn’t entirely managed it. She already looked so happy, but somehow she still managed to light up when she saw Jake and Charles.

‘Hey, you.’ Jake picked her up and smothered her sticky face in kisses.

‘More cake?’ she said, hopefully.

Jake laughed. ‘Tomorrow,’ he said. ‘We can’t have too much cake or Papa will tell us off.’ 

‘Silly Papa,’ Gracie said. ‘Down?’

Jake set her down, and watched as she inaugurated Charles into her running game. And then, when he could see they were happy and occupied, he went inside to start washing up.

Gracie was so tired from the day that she conked out while Jake was reading her a story, and they put her to bed early. Jake found himself yawning as they finished the clearing up: he could barely remember a time when he had stayed up until the early hours of the morning.

‘Can we just go to bed?’ he said, as he put the last of the plates away.

‘It’s not even eight yet,’ Charles said, but he looked as tired as Jake felt. And he’d had a meltdown earlier, even if it hadn’t been that serious. Did it still count? Jake always thought he understood the stuff he read online, but it wasn’t always so clear in real life. Charles had been overwhelmed, anyway, and upset. He’d disappeared from the party for a while, and he’d been quiet all afternoon. Jake was sure he felt worse than he was letting on.

‘What if we pretend we’re going to have sex?’

‘I’ll come to bed with you,’ Charles said. ‘But only if I can bring food.’

‘Deal,’ Jake said. ‘In fact, why don’t you go to bed and I’ll bring the food?’

Charles gave him a grateful smile. Jake made two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which were his culinary specialty, and took them through to the bedroom. Charles was sitting against the headboard wearing a t-shirt from the squash club (who knew they had such good merch?) and looking very cute. Jake passed him his sandwich, kicked off his jeans, and climbed into bed beside him.

‘I did some research,’ Charles said. ‘Some places do allow overseas adoption to same-sex couples. Like Latvia.’

‘I don’t know where that is,’ Jake said, through a mouthful of sandwich.

‘Next to Estonia.’

‘Did you really think that would help?’

‘It’s in eastern Europe, look.’ Charles put down his sandwich to grab his phone and open google maps. ‘And they’re famous for their rye bread!’

‘That’s not a good thing to be famous for,’ Jake said. ‘Rye bread? More like _dry_ bread.’

Charles made a faux-outraged face. ‘You shut your mouth.’

‘Make me.’

Charles kissed him, which wasn’t exactly shutting his mouth but did make him stop talking for a while. He tasted like peanut butter and jelly. When Jake pulled away, it was only so he could kiss Charles’ chin, his jaw. ‘So, Latvia,’ he murmured.

‘There are other places,’ Charles said. He looked a little brighter now, food and quiet working their magic. ‘We have options.’

Jake pulled back. ‘We could maybe look at older kids, too,’ he said.

Charles tapped his fingers against his leg. ‘I was thinking that as well.’

Excitement was beginning to coil in Jake’s stomach. Maybe this wasn’t going to happen as quickly as he had hoped, and maybe it wasn’t going to go quite the way he had expected, but it _was_ going to happen. And he had the best husband and daughter in the world with him while it did.

‘Did you know that in Latvia they have a soup that’s a dessert?’ Charles said.

Jake laughed so hard his ribs hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> I also know nothing about Latvia, but the soup thing is real! Come yell at me on [tumblr](https://impossiblyizzy.tumblr.com/)


End file.
